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Spock blinked and resolutely set his focus on the words on the PADD in front of him, the pain threatening his careful concentration.
“Widespread hydration was detected on the lunar surface through observations of a characteristic absorption feature at 3 µm by three independent spacecraft. Whether the hydration is molecular water (H2O) or other hydroxyl (OH) compounds is unknown and there are no established methods to distinguish the two using the 3 µm band. However, a fundamental vibration of molecular water produces a spectral signature at 6 µm that. is. not. shared. by. other. hydroxyl. compounds.” 1
The words swam together nauseatingly and Spock put down the PADD.
He had not spent adequate time in meditation over the preceding three days and he noted a consequent increase in the intensity of his pain of approximately 18%. He was able to block out the majority of the stabbing sensation in his head and neck if he focused on something else, but when he moved all the joints in his upper back cracked and ached deeply. Either way, he could not escape the fuzziness that numbed his mind, or the feeling of grinding of gears when he attempted to think. The cognitive impairments were the most frustrating, especially considering that his work required him to use his mental faculties to their full capacity. It was times like these that Spock’s control weakened to the point that he wished things were not this way.
The cause of the pain was almost as shameful as the problem itself. The doctors on Vulcan had mostly ignored his mother’s cries that something was wrong. He hypothesised this was due to both their disdain towards her for being human and contempt towards him for being half so. Only on a trip to Earth did they find the answer: Vulcan and human spines were constructed slightly differently; differently enough for Spock’s to have formed improperly above his shoulder blades. It meant a lifetime of pain, and there was no cure or treatment. Very few pain medications had been developed for the Vulcan physiology, since their tolerance was so high. The few there were would not work due to the human elements of his blood. He had watched his mother’s face fall as the doctors relayed the information, and he had merely stared straight ahead and hoped no one could see how disappointed he was, too.
The pain began to break through his mental block as he remembered it, and his resolve faltered. His mind travelled further back and recalled the overwhelming shame he had felt when he had first told his mother about the pain. Even at such a young age he had known that a true Vulcan would not feel pain. He had tried so hard to speak to her matter-of-factly but when she had comforted him he had burst into tears. The indignity of it stung even stronger now, after a lifetime of never quite living up to what he was told he had to be.
Spock’s headache pierced through his train of thought. He elected to lie down and meditate, both of which were usually futile but at least meant something to occupy himself with. As he was standing up, he heard the captain walking down the hallway after the last shift of the day. He was humming to himself, a tune Spock couldn’t recall. Evidently he had turned to face the doors to Spock’s quarters because they opened to reveal him smiling widely in the doorway.
“Hi Spock, just wanted to say hello,” he said, as he entered the room.
Spock immediately stood straight up and clasped his hands behind his back. He ignored the jolt of pain that seared through his spine.
“Greetings, Captain.” Spock said, and his voice faltered ever so slightly. It was clear Kirk noticed, however, because the smile vanished from his face and in its place a look of concern settled.
“Are you alright, Spock? You sound a bit tired.” He asked.
“Yes, Captain. I have had adequate rest. I would quite like to get back to my reading, if you do not mind.” he said, hoping his tone was not too abrupt.
“Oh, of course! I won’t hold you up any longer. Goodnight, Mister Spock.” Krik smiled slightly and turned to leave. Spock nodded in response and counted the seconds before he could relax his muscles. Once the Captain was gone, Spock crumpled to the ground, his face involuntarily contorting into a grimace. It had been many years since it was this disabling, and Spock knew it was entirely his fault for neglecting his meditation. He resisted the need to sob in frustration, instead barely managed the excruciating crawl to his bed where he eventually collapsed and fell into a fitful sleep.
---
Stardate 5693.3
After hours of stressful searching for a cure for the madness caused by the overlap of separate universes, and moreover trying to find a way to bring the Captain back from the other side, it had finally come down to this moment. Spock practically raced down the Enterprise’s hallways, resolutely attempting to keep control of his body despite the simultaneous panic and anticipation flowing through his veins. He bumped into McCoy, who was also running to the transporter room once they had heard that Mr Scott had locked on to the Captain’s signal.
Spock could feel the pain returning to his back with every hurried step. He refused to admit, even to himself, that he had been experiencing any increased stress due to the Captain’s absence. Of course, even if he had been, it was an entirely reasonable response to the sudden new responsibilities he was forced to accept. Nevertheless, the reduction in meditation time and additional adrenaline caused his pain to break into his perception despite the distractions of the past few days. His focus narrowed onto making sure each foot hit the ground properly and that he didn’t stumble. If he were to stumble, that would surely alert Dr McCoy that something was wrong, and Spock would rather deal with his ailment in silence for the rest of his life than allow any other the knowledge of it. Thankfully, McCoy was distracted by talking to the nurse about a tri-ox compound hypospray for when the Captain’s oxygen supply ran out.
Eventually they rounded the corner to the transporter room. The melodic humming of the beam weaving in and out was the backdrop to the palpable tension in the room. Scotty stood by the controls, hardly concealing his panic when the signal was nearly lost again. Spock and Bones got into position on the neighbouring transporter pads, prepared for when Kirk would appear in grave need of oxygen and support.
At last, the Captain materialised on the pad, and immediately fell to his knees. Spock caught him, and McCoy gave him the tri-ox as Chapel took his helmet off. He took great gasps of air, turning to look at Spock, who was using every last ounce of his Vulcan training not to scream from the pain of bending to catch him. They froze there, Kirk breathing heavily, and Spock painfully aware of how close they were. After a time, the Captain stood up and Spock quickly returned his arms to his sides.
“Why, thank you, Mr. Spock!” Kirk said, his breathing becoming steady again.
“You are quite welcome, Captain.” Spock felt relief wash over him as his mind processed that Kirk was really back on the Enterprise. The Captain was smiling at him, and Spock fought the urge to smile in return. The adrenaline began to wear off, and the intensity of his pain increased steadily. They moved to return to the bridge, but Spock turned too quickly and he saw grey swimming on the edges of his vision. The pain was like fire, radiating from his bones and scalding along his spine. Abruptly the grey eclipsed his field of view, and he felt his muscles give way, and time seemed to slow as he slid to the ground. Just before his consciousness faded he felt warm, strong arms around him, protecting him from the fall.
Spock opened his eyes and slowly became aware of his surroundings. He could make out a figure directly beside him, and another a ways away on the other side of the sickbay. The faces came into focus, and he saw Doctor McCoy bending over to read a printout, and the Captain looking worriedly over him.
“Captain,” he began, but he was interrupted by Kirk crying out.
“Spock!” His relief was written plainly across his face, and Spock took a second to process it.
“I assure you I am quite alright, Captain, and I am unsure as to why I am here.” He replied.
“No you’re not, you damned Vulcan, you passed out from unimaginable levels of pain. Lord only knows how long you’ve been having it either, not like you’d tell your doctor something like that, huh?” Bones chimed in, rolling his eyes. Kirk laughed, but he was still looking at Spock.
“Doctor, I do not know what you are referring to.” Even though the pain came in waves after he had tried to raise his head, he had no intention of letting his guard down now.
“Yes you do, and don’t try to argue with me because I’ve got scientific proof of it. We have sensors that can tell us pain levels, and yours are off the charts.” Bones called out from across the room. Jim looked up at McCoy, clearly shocked, and Spock’s brain whirred trying to determine what he should do next.
“The pain does not bother me, as I am a Vulcan. Surely you know this, Doctor, do you not?”
“No getting smart with me. If you were able to block it out it wouldn’t be showing on my monitors. Now give it to me straight, Spock, or I’ll wait here ‘til you do.” The pain was clouding Spock’s resolve, and he knew that the Doctor and Kirk would not allow him to leave until they knew what was going on. He almost felt sorry for them, knowing from experience with humans that they were probably worried about him.
“As you wish.” Spock said. “Since I am, as you know, half Vulcan and half human, my anatomy was and is a mystery to both human and Vulcan doctors. The majority of the composition and layout of my organs closer to those of full Vulcans, but I have an appendix, and my spine is improperly formed. I have experienced pain because of this ever since I was a child.” Here he paused, and watched as the Captain appeared to hang on his every word, emotions Spock couldn’t name flickering across his face. The doctor was staring at him, his expression changing from snide to pitiful. Spock couldn’t stand it. It was entirely undignified to be pitied by a human for his own weakness; as much as he yearned to allow them to care for him, he knew it would never be possible.
“However, I am able to cope with it extremely well. I can carry out my responsibilities without issue, the majority of the time. It is only during periods of unusual strenuousness that I have slight difficulty. In fact, I would really rather be left alone to continue my duties, if neither of you mind.”
Kirk looked incredulously at him. “Spock, I can’t believe this,” he said, almost angrily. “To think that you’ve been in so much pain for so long, and none of us knew. Damn that Vulcan composure of yours!” Spock raised an eyebrow. It was rare for the Captain to show his anger like this, and Spock was unsure why this news would affect him so deeply.
“I did not keep it from you in order to hurt you, Captain.” He said.
“No, of course not, it’s just…” Kirk looked strained. “Bones, is there nothing you can do?”
“Well, Jim, it’ll take some time but I’ll talk to M’Benga and see if he can synthesise a painkiller. With our advanced technology I’m sure we could come up with something.. In the meantime, I prescribe rest and reduced duty. I know that’s not what you want to hear, Spock, but-” and in a moment of rare compassion, he continued, “you don’t- no one deserves this much pain.”
Kirk visibly relaxed and sat down next to the bed. McCoy swiftly moved past them and out of the Medbay doors to find the nurse.
They stayed there, silently, for a time. Kirk stared at the controls directly in front of him, deep in thought. Spock watched first the lights beeping on and off on the opposite bed, and then turned his attention to the man at his side. He could tell the Captain was worried, but Spock had no way to reassure him as he usually would.
“Captain- Jim,” he began, and Kirk looked up sharply. “I apologise for not telling you the truth. It was never my intention to cause you distress.” He said it gently, and their eyes met.
“It’s okay, Spock, really. It’s only that I can’t stand the thought of you-” here he paused, another inchoate emotion briefly showing on his features, “suffering.”
Immediately the gravity of how they felt for each other settled into the room, and they looked away. A moment later, they both took a breath as if to speak, but neither could find the words.
“I think I’d better get back to the bridge.” Kirk said, breathing out heavily.
“That would be wise, Captain.”
Kirk stood up and started to walk away, but he turned back to look at Spock just before he left. Spock pretended not to notice, but deep within him something ached.
---
Stardate 5689.2
The comm line to the bridge whistled, and McCoy’s voice came through.
“Spock, can you come to Medbay?”
“I would rather not, doctor, but if it is strictly necessary…” Spock replied.
“Yes it is, you pointy eared idiot, I’m doing this for your sake, not mine.”
Spock almost rolled his eyes, but instead he sent a request that another officer be sent to take his place, and walked to the turbolift doors. He knew Jim was off duty now but he instinctively looked at the vacant Captain’s chair.
As the turbolift doors closed, he felt his thoughts begin to race. There was, of course, no sake in speculating the reason for McCoy’s call. Surely it was related to his chronic pain, but beyond that it was useless to attempt to divine what had been discovered. He had suffered enough scans and tests, throughout all of which the doctor cursed himself for not considering that the deformities would cause pain, that he almost wished he could forget about the whole endeavour and suffer in silence once again. But the dastardly hope that some advancement would present a treatment, perhaps a cure, for his ailment was too stubborn to be quenched. It was plainly obvious how illogical it was for him to be speculating like this. The more he argued back and forth the more the pain rose through the mental blocks, and the internal screaming eventually rose to overpower the overlapping voices in his head.
At last he reached the medbay and when the doors opened he was greeted by Doctor McCoy staring at him, and, perplexingly, Kirk. Spock tilted his head slightly and raised an eyebrow.
“Captain?” He said, trying to tone down the bemusement in his voice.
“Spock, I tell you he’s been bothering me all week asking after you, and I couldn’t take it any more so I thought I’d tell you both at the same time. Is that alright with you, green blood?” Bones said, emphasising the last words.
“Yes, of course.” Spock was still shocked at this news. It was unusual for humans to be so attached to their friends, although not unheard of. Spock would certainly feel the same way if something were to happen to the Captain, although perhaps he would be more discreet about it. “Please continue, Doctor.”
“Right. M’Benga and I have synthesised a drug that will work on your vascular system. It isn’t perfect, so it won’t take all the pain away, but it will certainly be better than what you’re used to.”
Jim let out his breath and looked up at Spock, but Spock was staring at the ground. Despite the persistent hope that he would receive news like this, he was surprised at how much it affected him. To think of all the years he had spent with the pain in the back of his mind, and the nights he spent curled up from the agony of it, and after all this time he would find some relief. The thought was marvellous, humorous, even, and he let it buoy him out of the shock.
“Thank you, Doctor McCoy, that is most welcome information.” To his surprise, McCoy and Kirk burst out laughing.
“‘Most welcome’? Here’s the greatest proof you’re an android we’ve had yet!” McCoy said, sarcastically. “And you’re very welcome, Spock.” Kirk laughed a bit more, before pouring a drink for himself and the doctor.
“To Spock and McCoy,” he toasted, raising the glass of brandy. Spock almost joined the laughter at that, but he settled on watching Jim and McCoy enjoy themselves. It was a pleasant sight, and the cause of it was even more pleasant to him, he thought. At long last, that defiant hope was justified.